Lead by Example
by MemphisGal94
Summary: When Gator quarterback Tim Tebow shows bad leadership during a game against Arkansas, Coach Meyer is forced to take action and get him to Lead by Example and not by words. WARNING: Spanking of a sexy adult. Don't read if you don't like!


Tim Tebow let the ball go, and he kept his eyes up just long enough to see Percy Harvin bring his feet down with the ball in his grasp in the in-zone. Touchdown. And as other members of his team jumped up and down, cheered, and screamed, Tim walked off the field as if nothing had happened. It was just one touchdown; and this was just one game where he wasn't playing well.

Something caught his eye, and he looked up to see his coach ripping the black headset off his head and throwing it to the ground. Muscles strained in Urban Meyer's neck as he screamed at Tim, probably for the first time in their three years of knowing each other. And the things coming out of Meyer's mouth weren't exactly nice, which got Tim even more frustrated. Though he couldn't expect much else from his head coach could he?

Tim tried to get fired up then, and took a run at Coach to chest bump him. Only, adding to the list of things that had gone wrong that day, his shoulder pad caught Urban's mouth.

_Shoot_, Tim thought as Urban walked away in a silent rage, _he's mad again._

Tim felt pretty bad about chipping Coach Meyer's tooth, and even after Urban approached him and gave him a hug, told Tim he loved him…Tim still felt bad. But the guilt ebbed away slowly when the game clock hit zero and the Gators pulled out the victory. It went more after a nice, replenishing shower. It was completely gone by the time he exited the press conference room with all the media.

"Tim, I'm giving you a ride. You and I have some things to talk about," Coach Meyer told him quietly so that only he could hear while they hugged outside the media room in view of flashing cameras.

The guilt came flooding back, mixed with apprehension.

The way Urban said talk meant that Tim was probably facing repercussions for the way he'd acted earlier during the game. Probably extra running after a practice, or possibly he'd have to sit out a quarter or two, or not get to start their next game. Tim was driving himself slowly insane as he climbed into Coach Meyer's Ford truck, going over every possible punishment he could think of.

The drive was silent. Coach didn't try to start a conversation, and Tim was too busy fretting to have the energy to do so. Tim wondered vaguely if Coach was going to want to come into his and Riley's apartment to talk, or if he had actually wanted to talk at all in the first place and just wanted to stress him out worrying for nothing.

Tim looked out the window of the truck then to his left. They weren't headed towards his apartment. If Tim knew where they were, they were headed towards Coach's home in a nice subdivision about ten minutes from the campus of the University of Florida.

"Coach?" Tim asked with confusion as Urban pulled into his driveway. No other cars, not that of his wife or two driving children were there. The house was empty, as Meyer had made sure of before leaving the locker rooms after the game.

"I said we needed to talk about some things," Urban said, getting out of his truck and leading the way up the stone path towards the front door. Tim followed, unable to come to terms with what they could possibly be talking about that couldn't be done in the truck or at Tim's apartment. Urban put his keys in a bowl on a small wooden table just inside the door and put his jacket on a coat rack in the corner.

"I've gone back and forth with this a hundred times Tim," Urban began, motioning for Tim to sit. Tim sank down into the plush navy blue leather couch. He looked up at his coach, his mentor. "The way you acted today wasn't acceptable. I don't expect that from you. You're my leader. I want you jumping up and down, screaming encouragement; not walking off the field with your head down."

"I'd just thrown an interception," Tim tried to defend himself, "on the previous drive. I was still mad at myself."

"Yeah, well, I was mad at you to!" Urban shook his head. "It's easy to lead when things are going great. I need you to step up now, and do what you promised Gator Nation last week after our loss. I want your head in the game. Not on the past. You can't get that interception back, so you need to move on and get better, work harder. And as for that act you pulled with the chest bump."

Tim shifted his weight shamefully, guilt spilling over him. He wiggled as if to snuggle back into the couch and hide. "I really am sorry about that Coach…"

"I know you're sorry. But I want to make an example of this entire thing. And I only know of one way to do it," Meyer said. He pulled a cushioned armless chair from the dining room and placed it in front of the couch, facing Tim, and sat down. "Your dad mentioned to me a long time ago how you were punished, and he gave me permission to use those means if I ever saw fit. So, I'm going to spank you."

Tim's eyes practically popped out of his head.

"Don't give me that look. You deserve it, and to be quite frank," Urban said, pushing the sleeves of his Florida shirt up to his elbows, "I think you need it."

"You can't be serious," Tim said, nothing short of stunned; he'd never even dreamed Coach Meyer would _spank_ him!

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Meyer gave Tim a scolding look. "Your father gave me permission the day before you started college here. He said he wanted someone he could count on to keep you in line, on the off chance you strayed. I know Peter gave you two through your freshman year." Tim looked at him in horror. "Tim, honestly, do you think no one saw? You had problems sitting, and your shorts were practically falling off they were so loose on you. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Quite frankly, there are more than enough guys on the team that need a good dose of what you're about to receive."

Tim was speechless. He wasn't exactly sure what to do. All he could think about was how embarrassing this was going to be, getting spanked by his football coach while a junior in college!

"How does your dad usually do it?" Coach Meyer asked his young star. "I know I usually take my kids over my knee, unless I'm using my belt. Is that what your father does too?" Tim nodded silently, his throat suddenly dry. "All right, stand on my right."

Tim stood slowly and stepped up on Coach's right. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. This was so embarrassing. And the team and coaches would know, and he'd never be able to show his face in public again. He'd have to drop out of school, go be a missionary in some third world country that had no technology…

Urban pulled Tim's large, 6'3, 235-pound frame face down over his knees. The carpet was a beige color, Tim noticed, as he felt a hand grip his blue track pants and peel them down along with his boxers. A bare spanking…This couldn't get any worse.

The first smack was unexpected, surprisingly, and hard. Tim gripped one leg of the chair as Urban started up at a fast pace, but quickly knew that wasn't a good idea as he slipped forward slightly. He extended his long arms and steadied himself on the floor. His toes curled into the long fabric of the carpet. Coach was spanking fast, and hard, and he wasn't talking. Tim hadn't expected him to. He was used to being scolded before then having silence during the actual punishment.

The sting was building pretty quickly. He hadn't been punished like this since the middle of his sophomore year last season. He never had been particularly used to being spanked. Sure, it's happened loads of times to him, but never multiple times in close proximity to each other. He'd been a good kid growing up, the baby of the family. Of course, he sometimes got special treatment because of that reason. But his parents had been fair punishers. His mom had always given lines; his dad had always given licks.

Tim wiggled slightly as Coach Meyer went down to his toned upper thighs. He could only assume, considering he'd been in this position for close to ten minutes, that his butt was the color of Georgia jerseys. He hoped it would be over soon.

"Stand up," Coach told him.

Tim did so slowly; thankful Urban was looking the other way. He wanted to keep at least some of his dignity here. Urban stood too, and Tim was about to reach down and pull his boxers up when he stopped. In horror he watched Coach Meyer unbuckle his belt and slide it through the loops of his khaki pants. Goosebumps erupted like little hills all over his skin.

"Bend over the back of the chair Tim," Coach told him.

"Coach," Tim said desperately. Hadn't he had enough?

"I told you I would be making an example of this," Urban said, looking directly into the eyes of the young man he viewed as a son. "I want to make sure this never has to happen again."

Tim bit his lip, but positioned himself behind the chair and bent over it. He gripped the edges of the cushioned portion tightly in his hands and stared at the stitched fabric. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Coach take a stance next to him.

The first lick was hard and left a biting sensation behind. Tim squeezed his eyes shut as a new one was landed just below that one, leaving a new burning stripe across his already punished globes. The next was below that, and Tim gasped audibly. The burn of the leather was crisp against his heated skin, and the burn was enough to make him dig his short nails into the fabric of the cushion. He wasn't near tears by any means, but he was definitely in pain.

Ten…Fifteen…Twenty. Tim gave up counting after that mark and focused on staying still. His mind was screaming for him to reach back and protect his butt. It really wouldn't be too difficult to overpower Urban if it came to that. But Tim had too much respect for his coach to do such a thing, and he honestly believed he deserved this punishment.

That didn't mean he was on board with it.

Finally Urban landed the last stinging lick right on the crease where Tim's round butt met his toned thighs. "Ouch!" Tim couldn't help it. It hurt, a lot.

Urban sifted the belt back through his belt loops and buckled it. Tim didn't move. He stayed bent over the back of the chair, hands gripping the cushion, head hung. He was breathing deeply, waiting for the unending burn in his butt to ebb at least slightly away, so it would be bearable to pull his pants and boxers up.

"Timmy," Urban said consolingly. The quarterback slowly pulled his boxers and track pants up, wincing visibly when the fabric touched his stinging flesh. "You know I love you right? I only did this because you needed it, and I don't want to have to again in the future."

Tim allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. "I know Coach." They pulled away. "I love you too."


End file.
